


How About Forever?

by lunaticmeap



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A bit of angst but not really, Anxiety, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Ice Skating, Injury, M/M, because i cant make things accurate for my life, because we know you dont leave uni, grade A level depiction of anxiety that is inaccurate, i cant think of any other tags, i mean that's it, mild swearing, or high school for that matter, without learning how to swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 00:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaticmeap/pseuds/lunaticmeap
Summary: "Yuuri admitted it: he did one of the most stupid thing in his skating career today."AKA That Fic Where Yuuri Gets Hurt And Decides To Hide His Injury From Viktor Who Is Oblivious AF





	How About Forever?

Yuuri admitted it: he did one of the most stupid thing in his skating career today.

He had always practiced alone when he was just starting out, too shy to try to show anyone his amateur moves unless it was Yuuko (and Takeshi who tagged along on most days). He had gotten injured -  _a lot_  - since then, dislocating shoulders and sometimes when he accidentally ran head first into the rink wall (Regionals were the literal proof of that).

But he was careful to never show those injuries, even to Viktor.

( _especially to Viktor, to be honest)_

So when his skates skidded sideways right the minute it hit the ice, Yuuri's left ankle followed, bending it inwards. Following the amount of pressure applied to the awkwardly placed ankle, he immediately yelped and hit the ice.

There were bursts of pain with the slightest twitch of his feet, and Yuuri hissed more so than little Yuri holding onto his katsudon bowl against a teasing Viktor. There was the only word Yuuri could use to describe his predicament.

"Shit."

Biting his mouth close, he placed his palms onto the ice and tried to push himself onto his knees. The change in position shifted the injured ankle, creating a like pressure that made him feel like he had just smacked it against the edge of a stone table. He wanted to cry.

In short: it hurted like a bitch.

When he does manage to tentatively put both his skates back on the ice, he practically limped towards the barrier, wincing every time he had to use his injured foot to propel himself forward.

Obviously his rational mind told him to leave the rink to at least assess his damage, but Viktor Nikiforov, who had a little too much  _sake_  in an attempt to out drink Minako (which is an impossible task for as long as Yuuri has lived), decided to bless Yuuri's existence with his usual cheerful, "Yuuri!"

And if it were any morning but this, Yuuri would perk up and respond with a slightly less enthusiastic hello. But today he attempted a wave.

Viktor's hair was a wreck - though Yuuri wouldn't care even if the guy had freaking birds living in it because he could be a demon and Yuuri would still be head over heels into Viktor. He hurriedly approached the rinkside, ready to get the younger skater to go through the whatever routine they have begun to choreographed last week.

"Yuuri! How could you leave me to wander the roads by myself! " Viktor sarcastically whined. "I looked like a loner trying to find his husband who was lost to him 20 years ago, reminiscing on the path they used to take together!"

"Viktor, you're 28! You're old but not that old to have a husband 20 years ago." Yuuri really wanted to sit down. "How do you feel? Any headache or… anything?"

Sometimes Yuuri really hates his stupid anxiety. He woke up less than stellar that day, and his anxious head had not allowed him to even wait for Viktor to make their usual jog to the rink. Of course there were days when one of them left the house before the other, but they had made it a habit to accompany each other often because they preferred it that way. But Yuuri couldn't face him for some reason, today. His felt his nerves worsen as he is utterly terrified of what Viktor would do if he knew about what Yuuri had just done.

He shifted his feet slightly, and was reminded then by the jolt of pain that reminded him that he was the biggest idiot that morning and this is probably something Viktor would be so disappointed about  _and probably might show even more of Yuuri's shortcomings and maybe then Viktor will realise that I'm no one special and leave to find other poten-_

"Yurochka?" Viktor waved a hand in front of his face. "Are you sleepy? You did have to take me back pretty late last night."

"Ah.. no. Sorry. I just… I'm fine." Yuuri forced a reassuring smile onto his face. Honestly they're fiancés for god's sake and Yuuri still finds it hard to speak at all with Viktor. He winced a bit as he tried to put more pressure on the injured foot, hoping he'd be able to just skate it off before they start practice.

"Well I'll go put on my skates and you warm up if you haven't already. We'll go through whatever we had last week. I'm also thinking of adding the next part of the choreography later, so I hope you're awake," Viktor said cheerfully.

"O...okay."

Not okay.

_Not flipping flying fucking okay!_

Yuuri squeaked involuntarily when he realised he had said the words out loud then realised  _thank god he was born Japanese_. But then the roden-like noise made Viktor look up at him in a curious gaze and a lopsided smile.  _God what a view!_  Yuuri turned away from instinctively to hide his embarrassment.

His joints were far from forgiving as they made him wish he could chop off his leg at the moment. His knee jerked and he fell once more, face planting onto the ice.

"Are you okay, Yuuri?" The older skater leaned over the barrier worriedly. "We could practice later this afternoon if you're not feeling it at th-"

"No! No... I'm fine. I just turned around too quickly, that's all."

The other man look skeptical, but didn't question and nodded hesitantly, placing his hand over Yuuri's, "Alright. But you know to give yourself a break if you're not well, right? I'm not going to make you -"

"I'm fine. Honest!"

Half an hour later and Yuuri thought he might actually just cry. He had just went through the choreography in the sloppiest manner, which Viktor apparently believes was due to his lack of sleep and waved it off. Yuuri was standing solely on one skate now, the other pretending to rest casually on its tip as he leaned onto the barrier. He was, of course, paying attention to the excited man about the neat choreography of the next part of the song, but most of his brain was nagging him to sit down before he ends up doing something even more stupid like tripping over his own feel and sprain the other ankle too.

"Yuuri? Are you zoning off on purpose?" Viktor playfully said, "Am I boring you?"

"I'm sorry?" Yuuri didn't know when he had slid onto his bottom against the ice, but his leg wasn't screaming as bad, so he forgot that he was supposed to be stretching.

"Sorry." he bit his tongue to get up.

"You got it though?"

"Uh…"

"The choreography. You remember the first bit of the new part at least?"

"Yes"

"Alright, let's go through it together?"

( _If Yuuri could plant his head into the ice now, he probably would.)_

_If you mess up this free skate and miss the podium, I'll take responsibility by resigning as your coach._

"Yuuri."

Yuuri raised his head from the ice, looking up to his finacé looming above, his hair casting a small shroud upon both of them due to how close the were. His breath hitched at the proximity and the perfectly kissable lips that he would like nothing more to be on his right now, "Yes?"

"That's the third time today you've fallen from simply doing two spins. What's wrong?"

"N..nothing."

Viktor pulled him onto his feet, but obviously too quickly as it made the younger skater inhale sharply to hold in his cry. And finally, Viktor noticed, "Come on, off the ice."

"Uh… pardon?" Yuuri stammered and almost actually trip over his skates.

"Let's take a break."

And it was without denial that Yuuri left the cold rink to sit down. The moment that he had managed to place his bottom on the bench felt like a moment of bliss that he savoured for half a minute. Half a minute because Viktor came back with a first aid kit and crouched in front of him.

Yuuri could hear his heart in his ears and his hand reached out to stop Viktor from doing anything further, "What are you doing?"

"Clearly I've been a horrible fiancé and coach because you're in pain and you're hiding it from me," Viktor stated simply as he loosened the laces of Yuuri's skates.

"I-I'm fine, Vitya. Really."

Viktor looked up the younger man with a light smile, but somehow Yuuri felt as if he was the one being stared down, "Yes, and I won't believe you until I check it myself because clearly you were favouring legs."

Yuuri cursed himself internally.

"Also you only call me Vitya when you're trying to bribe me into something."

This time he could only looked to the floor, disappointed and embarrassed.

"Yuuri, did you do something before I got here?"

"M-maybe?"

"Do you really expect me to believe that when you've been kissing the ice more than you've been kissing me today?" Viktor raised a suggestive eyebrow.

Yuuri was silent after that, his cheeks rosy but fists clenched at the fabric of his pants at his knees, and face turned to anywhere that's not the man in front of him.

When Viktor managed to pull off both the skates, he examined the left one gingerly, lifting and turning the swollen thing, to finally open the first aid kit and declaring, "I think we'll have to go to the doctor for this one."

* * *

Viktor didn't understand.

Why would Yuuri suffer through that entire time without speaking a single word? It's not like Viktor's going to hate him for it? Viktor remembered his fair share of sprained ankle and it's not like he can't catch up to progress with his skating afterwards - they  _are_  off season. And they're  _engaged_ , too. That's like, one level below marriage which doesn't really count because they practically act like a married couple already! Aren't they supposed to talk?

Maybe it's because he was too unapproachable? Or did he do something stupid when he was drunk yesterday? Obviously he knew he was a slave driver but Yuuri had always given him inputs on what worked for him and what didn't. Why didn't Yuuri just tell him?

"Sorry," Yuuri said, quite miserably getting his ankle bandaged by a nurse. His eyes were dull, gaze remaining on his fidgeting hand. When he spoke, his mouth almost curved into a frown that Viktor desperately wanted to kiss away.

"What are you sorry for?"

"Making you worried."

"Well, practising a new move without supervision is kind of a dumb move." Viktor leaned back on the uncomfortable plastic chair to stretch his cramping leg, observing his fiancé's shamed glances.

"I'm not mad, Yuuri. Everyone make mistakes."

"It's just…" Yuuri sighed, eyes still returning to his hands. "After last season… I just realised that the gold medal that you- no,  _we-_ wanted was all up to me. And I just realised, with you back in competitions, I would have to really try hard. Because my scores don't just affect me anymore. It's linked to your coaching skills, and now, our personal relationship.

"I don't think anyone realised that I had planned to stop skating altogether last year. The first week that you came, I was still pondering about quitting. I only told Yu-chan that I came back to find my love for skating to not worry her and everyone else. I just… don't want to let anyone down."

"The only time that you'll let me down is when you're lowering me into my grave."

"My ankle is a let down," Yuuri snorted.

"No, it's just a minor setback."

"The whole world is expecting me to be better ever since you came to Hasetsu. There are… expectations on you to be just amazing of a coach as you were a skater… which then…" Yuuri stopped and shook his head.

"Then?" Viktor prompted.

He watched Yuuri mull over his words, silent and careful as if his next line could cause mass destruction.

_(Viktor would like to believe sometimes that Yuuri was some sort of secret agent pretending to be an anxious world-class skater who is actually very badass - not that Yuuri's ass isn't to be reckoned with, nor is his skating anything but badass. But, well, Viktor would like to kiss him no matter what.)_

"We fell in love over each other's skating. The entire world expects me to… be a champion. Be an amazing skater like you and I know I'll never be you, and I might never live up to that expectation." Yuuri pressed his lips. "Then maybe… you'll just realise one day that we were never supposed to be…"

_Ah… That's why._

"I used to sprain my ankle a lot," Viktor finally said.

"Really?" Yuuri wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and looked at him, perplexed.

"Yes! All the time. And mostly because I was being an idiot teenager and rebelling against Yakov."

The younger skater smiled a little at that - a small, shy and soft endearing smile that was warm as the setting sun on Viktor's back as his the waves splashed at his feet on the sand. And like the sun, Yuuri's smile radiated with a glow that made Viktor stop to just watch.

"I don't want you to feel pressure to live up to my name. I can do that for myself," he said as he took one of Yuuri's hand in his. "I need you to live up to your own name, Yuuri."

Yuuri nodded.

"Some people define themselves by the good things that they've done. Some, by their achievements in life, like me. I think, all this time, you've defined yourself by your anxiety. But the truth is, my dear Yuuri, is that you've changed. I'm not sure if you've realised that."

"What do you mean?"

"You've been Yuuri to your parents and sister, and you've been that little boy that Yuuko spent hours skating with. You're not just a Grand Prix 6th place finalist, or my student. You're Yuuri, who loves skating, and his family and friends, and you want to make them proud. Did you not realise your theme last year was very much what you define yourself as?"

"You missed one thing on that list, Vitya."

Viktor looked at him quizzically, "What did I miss out?"

"I love my fiancé and coach too."

If the Russian can even create a sound, it would be incoherent as blood rushes to his cheeks and he grinned widely. He held their now entwined hand to his lips, "You know you're stuck with me for as long as you'll have me, right?"

Yuuri pulled Viktor's hand to his lap and began to inspect it with utmost care (something Viktor notices that he does a lot to his mother to check for any burns or dry skin. On lazy days, Yuuri pulls out a jar of ointment to dab it onto Viktor's cuticle, because apparently Viktor doesn't take care of his hands enough). The Japanese man turned to him for the first time during the day, "How about forever?"

Viktor's heart might have just skipped five beats. Perhaps he's already dead and heaven has blessed him with the so very adorable Katsuki Yuuri who was licking his chapped lips nervously again. Well… Viktor knew one thing to help.

"Forever sounds great."

With a chaste but soft kiss on Yuuri's lips, followed by a gentle smile, Viktor knew the rest of the day was going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> In an alternative universe, Viktor whips out some expensive lip balm and applies it to Yuuri's lips whilst Yuuri wonders when tf his fiance even restocked their collection of lip balms. A discussion about lip balm flavours ensues, and they decide to test their favourites when they got home. Cue make out session and CUT!
> 
> So like if yall were the one of the people who were incredibly kind to have read the shitty old version of this story, holy shit bless your soul because wow it was so badly plotted even i was questioning the timeline. Took me a year, but i fixed it! Hopefully it makes more sense because I felt like it actually had really great lines back then (i looked at it and was like "wow that's pretty funny how did i write this was i on drugs" - LMAO plz dont actually do drugs and stay in school kids)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Come scream at me on tumblr[ @meapistrash](https://meapistrash.tumblr.com/)


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